


Sentimental Value

by Not_You



Category: Watchmen (Comic), Watchmen - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, POV Outsider, Rorschach Has Issues, Sick Character, grapnel gun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 09:14:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10783872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_You/pseuds/Not_You
Summary: Patrolling on his own while Dan is sick, Rorschach loses his grapnel gun and then steels himself to go tell Dan about it, certain that he'll be mad.  (Spoiler: he isn't.)





	Sentimental Value

Rorschach is uncharacteristically lingering after gift-wrapping his adversaries, staring down into the river. Gordon would ordinarily be vowing to tell all his non-cop friends about this, but the poor guy just looks upset. It figures. He finally gets his very own Rorschach sighting and he's just standing there on the bridge, looking like he's about to burst into tears. He suddenly breaks into motion, frantically hunting for something. The longer Gordon watches, the more sure he is that is round six or so and that whatever he's trying to find, it's long gone. 

Hell, he's heard no one can sneak up on this guy, and he's oblivious even though Gordon isn't trying to be quiet. He crawls around on his hands and knees and muttering to himself, getting increasingly frantic until he leaps to his feet and kicks a support column, shrieking, "FUCK!" in what's probably the closest to his civilian voice anyone has ever heard. That gravel is a put-on. The rawness here is real, and he stalks into the night, vibrating with anguish and frustration. As Gordon calls for backup, he finds himself hoping that Rorschach has a wife or a best pal or a dog or something. He looks like he could use some sympathy.

Walter's misery is absolute, but he knows what he must do. Daniel is sick, and he had already promised to visit him. Of course, now he has ruined everything and is bringing Daniel news that will probably make him relapse. The grapnel gun was supposed to be a surprise, but part of what makes Rorschach so scary is his way of finding things out no matter what you do. So even though he wasn't supposed to, he knows how long Dan had spent building it, and his whole center tightens with what feels like a combination of tears and nausea. 

Honesty is the best policy. They always find out when you've broken something, so it's best to tell and not be a liar too. But he doesn't want to admit this to Daniel, that his beautiful mechanism is now rusting away in the Hudson. He drags his feet, tears pricking at his eyes at the thought of such a fate for one of three things anyone had ever given him that hadn't been charity. Minnie Kowalski's lucky rock (passed on to some small, frightened child that had needed luck shortly before Walter left the Home), a battered copy of Pilgrim's Progress from Mr. Sawyer, and most precious, the grapnel gun, now irretrievably lost due to his own carelessness and stupidity.

When he comes stumping up the stairs and into Daniel's room, he's trying not to sniffle, and Daniel's bright smile of greeting only makes it worse. Worse still is the way it falters at the edges and then fails completely as he takes in Walter's stance and the way he's holding his head low, like his chest hurts. 

"...Hey, what's wrong?" He gestures to the foot of the bed. "Sit down, I'm not contagious anymore."

Walter does, stiffly, and then sets his hat in his lap and maintains a deathgrip on the brim on he stares at his feet and rasps, "Lost grapnel gun. Didn't mean to. Understand how long it took to make." His eyes finally do fill with tears, and he blinks furiously, glad of the mask. Now Daniel is going to be angry with him, and he'll have to patrol alone, ripping his gloves on fire escapes, and it will serve him right.

"Aw, that's too bad." Daniel murmurs, patting his shoulder with one warm, heavy hand. "I know how much you liked it." He almost flinches away from the contact at first, then basks in it, the way he does any time Daniel touches him.

"Y-you're not mad?" He hates how soft his voice is, how childlike.

"Why would I be? I've still got the blueprints. The first one took forever because it was a prototype, Rorschach." He smiles, his hand lingering the way it almost always does, like Walter is a sturdy and well-loved piece of furniture and one of his purposes in life is to give Dan somewhere to rest his hands. "As soon as I'm really on my feet again, I'll make you a replacement, okay?"

"...Okay." Things are oscillating wildly inside him, and he still feels like crying, but also elated. It's a strange kind of happiness, but he'll take it.

Dan grins. "Now go make us a sandwich and tell me about everything else that happened tonight."

Later, Rorschach reflects that home might just be a place where they forgive you for losing things and you know exactly how much mustard goes on pastrami on rye.


End file.
